


Once in Service

by prototyping



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: AU, Gen, General, SCIENCE!, What Could Have Been, genfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 01:40:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5893201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That is why," she went on slowly, "you will do exactly as I say if you want to stand even the slightest chance against Albert Wesker. Or," she proposed, waving a hand as she turned away again, "you and Redfield can do as you have always done and blindly charge in like the heroes you are. Who knows? Perhaps you will be fortunate--perhaps he will just kill you outright rather than make you his puppet this time."</p>
<p>Jill, Excella. Slight RE5 AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once in Service

**Author's Note:**

> I KINDA DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT I DID HERE. I thought it would be cool if scorned!Excella wanted to get back at Wesker, even going to the lengths of "asking" Jill for help, so long story short, this happened. Obviously, it's under the pretense that Excella was never Uroboros'd; rather, Wesker betrayed her in a different way.

Excella's laugh was sharp, high, and clear, cutting through the silence with an almost grating quality. Even if it came out sounding genuinely, condescendingly amused, she knew better than anyone that it lacked an entirely true ring. It didn't show in the cold sneer she directed at Jill, or in the mocking tone that she haphazardly tossed back in return.

"How very ironic," she mused. "One of the great founders of the B.S.A.A. appealing to a _common_ terrorist for help?" Making a low--but not inaudible--sound in her throat, Excella turned back to her task at hand. "And why would I ever deign to help you?"

Jill was silent for only a beat, her steady gaze never budging. "...He betrayed you," she said simply. There was no scorn in her tone--no arrogance, no derision, nothing to suggest what she thought of the fact. Excella's hands stilled, but she didn't return the look. "He betrayed you," Jill repeated, "and right now you're the only one who can help us take him down."

Excella, fortunately for herself, was rather talented at deception in turn, if only in the sense of disguising her true thoughts--it was certainly helpful in concealing just how little she thought of most people, on the occasion that she chose to do so--and here her face remained professionally stoic except for a distant, thoughtful look that was as close to solemn as she was about to come.

When another moment of silence went by, Jill pushed more sternly, "Excella, what Wesker did speaks for itself. You don't have to do this to help _us_ , but you should at least--"

" _Do not_ ," Excella interrupted, her words laced with ice, "tell me what I should or should not do, Ms. Valentine." Hard eyes turned onto Jill's face, as threatening as they were forcibly detached. Even if the older woman had a point--an undeniably valid point--in that collaboration was the best Excella could hope for in terms of some form of retribution for what she had been put through-- _subjected_ to--she was hardly in the mood to acknowledge such. Not easily. "You, of all people, are _hardly_ in a position to suggest my actions," she went on, more than a little snidely.

The effect of that comeback was immediate: Jill's expression darkened, anger and a shadow of what was surely contempt crossing her face as she regarded Excella in terse silence. The look was held readily, confidently, before Excella made a show of returning to her desk work, her previous irritation having melted smoothly from her voice by the time she spoke again, replaced with businesslike disinterest. "Honestly, I do not know what you expect to accomplish by coming to me. I have none of the serum in my possession."

"But you know what's in it," Jill pushed, surprisingly quick. Excella's next glance was skeptical, if not slightly annoyed. Jill Valentine was obnoxiously persistent--although that much had been obvious in her struggles against the virus.

"I do," Excella confirmed haughtily, raising her chin. "But you and Redfield would do better not to delude yourselves with the notion of being able to replicate it yourselves."

"...So you could do it?"

"Of course." Excella didn't look over, didn't give away how Jill was falling so nicely into the set-up. "And yet that knowledge is useless without any trace of the Progenitor Virus at my disposal. If I had even a handful of its bodies, I could replicate it to a useful number. But unless you plan to obtain a sample from _him_ , we are out of luck." In the corner of her eye, Jill dropped her gaze with a low curse.

Half a minute passed, Excella patiently turning page after page and scanning them in a rather bored fashion. "But that is not the only solution," she said finally, suddenly, without lifting her eyes. Jill perked up.

"What?"

"An exact replica of the serum would be needed to reduce him to the weakest state possible," she all but purred, reciting the knowledge as common. "But it is possible--theoretically--to produce a counter-serum, if you will. Opposite properties, opposite reactions--but similar consequences." Her glance and smile at Jill were condescending. "I _imagine_ even you and your loving partner would gain an advantage in such a case. Not as large as if you were using the true serum, but you would have a better chance than you currently possess."

There was the unmistakable light of hope in Jill's face again. She watched Excella for a long moment, considering. "So--you'll do it?" she tried, sounding doubtful.

"I _can_ do it," Excella countered breezily, "assuming I can find everything required." Before Jill could ask, she went on, "Most of the necessary supplements can be found anywhere; I will have no issue locating them. The key, however, is the basis of the formula." She knew Albert's biochemistry better than anyone alive, except for the man himself; she'd hypothesized that the possibility she was considering had a high chance of success and was already formulating how best to capitalize on what she had. Of course, in the small chance that she was wrong, this new counter-serum could have absolutely no effect and, at the worst, Valentine and Redfield would meet rather unsavory deaths at Albert's hands even more quickly than she anticipated.

Oh, well. Such were the risks of research.

"And? What do you need?" Jill inquired, but warily. Smart woman.

"Most of Albert's metabolism revolves around a complex factor," Excella explained, specific but at the same time purposefully vague, "which in turn revolves heavily around the virus on which it is based. Given its constitution, there are only two solutions. The first--the Progenitor Virus itself--is obviously not a luxury that we have." Jill didn't budge through the drawn-out answer; she only waited expectantly. "And so the only other option," Excella concluded, able to keep the cruel smile to a minimum, "is to attack his _virus_ rather than his body." Leaning back in her chair, she swiveled slowly in Jill's direction and looked over at her coolly--just in time to see realization dawn on the other woman's face.

Jill's hopeful look faltered; her eyes narrowed. "If you think--" she began stiffly.

"I do not _think_. I know. Your precious antibodies are the key to this, Ms. Valentine." Excella watched as Jill struggled with some internal debate, and then when this grew boring she pushed, "Your simple luck in being _what_ you are has provided us with this second chance. Going by our circumstances, we will likely have no third."

"No," said Jill quickly, redirecting her glare to Excella's calmer gaze. "You expect me to trust you? After what you _used_ me for--I don't even _know_ what else you could do with it! Why would I give you the key to Uroboros--the only piece left of those viruses besides Wesker himself?"

Excella let her have her soapbox. And then she put it simply.

"Because you _need_ me."

Jill's glare hardened even further, tension shooting through her shoulders. Excella just continued to smile sweetly up at her. "Because you are desperate. That is why," she went on slowly, "you will do exactly as I say if you want to stand even the slightest chance against Albert Wesker. Or," she proposed, waving a hand as she turned away again, "you and Redfield can do as you have always done and blindly charge in like the heroes you are. Who knows? Perhaps you will be fortunate--perhaps he will just kill you outright rather than make you his puppet this time." She arched an eyebrow as she regarded the other woman with a fake curiosity. "That _is_ what happened before, no? When you last failed--"

"What exactly would you need?" Jill snapped.

"Oh, not much. A little blood--and your trust, I suppose," Excella added as a dismissive afterthought, "if you honestly plan to use this against him."

"...We do," said Jill, firm but hesitant.

"Then you know what you must do," Excella finished with a slight perk to her tone, again smirking. When Jill didn't respond, Excella began leafing through her papers, ignoring her entirely. Even when the agent--ex-agent, whatever she called herself--abruptly turned without a word and moved to leave, Excella only waited--and allowed that smirk to grow when Jill, of course, stopped just inside the doorway.

"...I'll talk to Chris," she said curtly without looking back, "and let you know when we decide."

Excella just gave a low _hmph_ of acknowledgement.

"Meanwhile--" Here, Jill glanced back over her shoulder. "--see if you can't come up with another solution."

That earned a skeptical, arrogant look. "I assure you, there _is_ no other way. But yes, yes, discuss whatever moral issues you deem necessary if it makes you feel better." Excella made a shooing motion with a hand. She had half a mind to throw in a remark asking what sort of woman allowed a man to have an opinion in something so personal--but she refrained. Barely. "You know where to find me once you have made your decision--the right one," she added with just a touch of cold emphasis. When she heard Jill shift a couple seconds later, Excella, knowing the choice was as good as made, _couldn't_ resist throwing after her, "Just accept what you are, Ms. Valentine. I personally see no difference between being a weapon for one side or the other--but take comfort in that _this_ time, you will be fighting your good fight. At least, if that will help you concede faster--"

The echo of Jill's boots on tile said she had gone. Pausing briefly to enjoy the satisfaction, Excella momentarily picked up the top page of the thin stack and glanced over it. She was just as confident in the possibility as she had made herself sound to Jill; this would work.

Well, at the very least, _her_ input would work. She would inevitably have to rely on Redfield's bumbling luck and Jill's equal but separate desire for vengeance--an unfortunate turn of events, but it was more than Excella could do alone. She threaded her fingers as she sat back, turning to gaze out the window with a narrow look.

Yes, this would work. She had been blinded before, but now--now there was nothing but her brilliant mind at work. Redfield and his partner could handle the brawn; brains, however, were the real key to outdoing Albert, and Excella had that in spades.

They would see who the better scientist truly was.


End file.
